We’re all cheering you on–write! write! write! Yay!!!
I thought it would be interesting for you to post your novel’s opening paragraph here to give the rest of us a taste of those wonderful stories you’re creating.
*Heck, why limit it to NaNoWriMo? All VN authors are invited to submit the first paragraph of a WIP (work in progress).
If you want comments on your submission, say so; if you’d rather not be critiqued let us know that, too (use bold font reading NO COMMENTS, PLEASE!) at the top of your paragraph.
Readers, kindly respect the wishes of those writers who request that we not comment on their work.
Success to all.
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I used Noxzema from the time I was old enough to wash my own face, all through school and into adulthood. Then I decided it wasn't 'sophisticated' enough and went with higher priced, higher end products. About 5 years ago, I went back to 
How funny....i only very recently (within last week) read the coconut oil articles on the web. (100 uses, 80 uses etc.) so i bouht some and ordered some from amazon. (Im a stockpiler.)
Have started trying some of the uses. I tried using it a
If your going to be financially secure enough to venture out and see whats available in the B & B field...take your time and check it out. If you have to jump into a job..just to have one..you will not be happy. Hope you get the time to find wh
Here I am standing in the airport on a cold March night. Waiting for a man to arrive that I had spent many hours on the phone with and countless IMS and email. Soon the elevator doors would open and hopefully the man of my dreams would appear. As a widow I was too old to try the bar scene so I took a different approach to finding the love of my life. On night after way past one to many margaritas, I decided to join eHarmony, the place to find love. After a couple of jerks including a man who sent me a photo of him in the most beautiful blue evening gown I have even seen I was matched with Byron. At first I was unsure about even contacting him. He was after all not only disable but from southern California, the land of nuts.
WOULD LOVE COMMENTS HAVE NOT WRITTEN IN MANY YEARS. FORMER HUSBAND TOLD ME TO STOP WASTING TIME AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL
You weren’t wasting your time, but that’s why he’s “former,” right?
I think you’re off to a delightful start. I really like where this is going. There is humor, which is refreshing in a “widow’s” story, and you’re not taking the adventure too seriously. You’re not with the bar scene, but will spend time with a margarita or three. Nice element of surprise when you off-handedly mention that he is disabled. Great pacing in your paragraph, you get right to the point, not spending too much time on a build-up. This is going to be Byron’s and your story.
Another nice touch is your comfort in writing in first person, just make sure you keep your tense consistent. Someone once told me to read my work aloud and wherever I stumbled, that is where the reader will stumble. “Waiting for a man to arrive whom.” Other than some punctuation and spell-checking, you’re fine. I would certainly be eager to read what happens next in what I anticipate will be a fun-filled romp.
I have not done any corrections yet. Just trying to write the store. Will worry about the proper grammer later. Be careful I will send you the whole thing and you can be my editor
Oh, I’m sorry magiemae, I didn’t know that you’re doing NaNoWriMo; of course it’s an unedited draft–a good one–but a draft.
The suggestions have been to fictionalize our story. What if I wrote the truth? We will be married for three years on the 21st of November, together for 5. For almost three of those years we have had to take care of his parents. Smart people would have tossed their butts in a home, but we decided to do the right thing and take care of them. I own the house his father lives in with us. The truth about how difficult a new marriage, moving across country twice in three years is interesting. I do not want to hurt feelings but would love some suggestions or ideas.
Why are you reluctant to write a memoir? I think your true story is fascinating and would be helpful to other women faced with the care of elderly in-laws. Is your reluctance due to a fear of your husband’s reaction to your publishing the story of your marriage? Your writing has a nice, subtle humor to it and I think you would present the story in such a way that no one would be offended. The truth is the truth.
You’ve got my vote.
He thinks it is a great idea. The story of our marriage is filled with humor and silly moments as well as the problems. According to him if we cannot find humor then we are just going to be depressed and what good it that
Magiemae
I wish there were ways for us to send messages to one another in privet….we have a lot in common. But it was me coming off the plane and my future husband waiting in the airport. Funny thing…we met over the internet, it was in Vegas that he was waiting for me and we have been married for 4 ½ years and we have moved 4 times. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
The suggestions have been to fictionalize our story. What if I wrote the truth? We will be married for three years on the 21st of November, together for 5. For almost three of those years we have had to take care of his parents. Smart people would have tossed their butts in a home, but we decided to do the right thing and take care of them. I own the house his father lives in with us. The truth about how difficult a new marriage, moving across country twice in three years is interesting. I do not want to hurt feelings but would love some suggestions or ideas.
What happens next is marriage in Vegas with Elvis walking me down the isle and a honeymoon in Hawaii,
What happens next is marriage in Vegas with Elvis walking me down the isle and a honeymoon in Hawaii,
I’m glad the husband is former. This is a good start. I find myself wanting to see who gets off the plane. I know it’s not PC, but at our house we called CA the land of fruits and nuts.
What’s your handle in NanoLand? We can buddy up.
Perle
terrycrawley. I agree the land of fruits and nuts. Even he says that the best nuts come from CA
You set up a good suspense in a few sentences!
First, I hope that you’ve forgotten a lot of other nasty things your former husband had said. Throw his advice to the garbage along with the rest.
Second, you have a compelling opening that takes the reader right into the heart of the action and possible conflict. You’ve given the reader just enough background to understand what’s going on without your going overboard with explanations. This alone is an excellent achievement.
Your prose is conversational, setting the tone to a sense of intimacy between the author and the reader, making the reader a partner to this journey. This is a great approach, but I would toneit down only half-a notch. e.g. Take out the “Here I am” in the first sentence and “way past one” and just leave “…after too [sic] many margaritas…” And rather than “decided” replace that verb to give more impact with something like “gathered the courage.”
These are minor suggestions. Overall, very well done! Keep up the good work,
Talia Carner
Oh Magiemae…. I sure can relate to what you said about your EX. My EX told me my art work wasn’t worth my time or HIS money…..I am now married to a wonderful man who loves me to do my art work and my writing…. BTW I am from Arizona originally
Have at it. I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo, and this is from my WIP. I hope you like it:
The masked girl was back at the screen door. The smooth mahogany full face mask was sculpted to her face, its carved slots allowing her eyes access to witness what sat before her on the other side of the door. Like a small brown-skinned ghost, she had appeared and disappeared throughout the long day, each time pressing her hands and hidden face against the ragged screen straining for a better view, each time stinging her fingers on the sharp shards jutting out around the holes in the sorry screen. She snatched her hand back when pricked, shaking it in a finger-whipping motion, sucking the offended fingers to lessen the sting of the tiny wire splinter, all the while never taking her eyes from the small veiled figure sitting in the middle of the floor.
Sounds a little spooky, but I do want to read more and that is a good sign to me. I often wander bookstores, reading first paragraphs and sometimes first chapters before buying a book.
How far along are you on this
Perle
Yakkity,
I love the contrast of the “small brown-skinned ghost” in the “smooth mahogany full face mask” with the “small veiled figure sitting in the middle of the floor.” Now, just what are these two going to get up to? I’d keep reading to find out.
~~Nancy
c Introduction d
To a resolute mind, wishing to do is the first step toward doing.
But if we do not wish to do a thing it becomes impossible.
South
He loved this time of day, when all seemed right with the world. The early summer evening air was cooling as he swept through the sky, hovering on the warm updrafts, high above the seaside community of Galvin Cove. He felt the last heat of the day turn to mist against his face and blinked his eyes into the advancing mauve of the east.
He was aware of everything, knew all things, lived by the Laws of Light and endured the ages. He was Marsuveus, a Shaman of the Crysnix realm. A seer, prophet and the highest council to the Good King Lucent, yet a mere raven to the Humans who knew so little about the power of the universe.
He looked out to the sea and felt the surge of strength within its depths. He glanced over to the treetops of Castle Forest and felt the tingle of the endless flow of life juices that sustained every leaf. The breeze he felt on his face and under his wings was more than a gentle wind; it was a measure of time and balance. And softly, ever so softly, it conveyed through his acute senses that all was well in the forest far below.
That is beautiful, lisa shore. Your writing is so lyrically descriptive, and it captured and held my attention throughout. That’s not Poe’s raven! There’s magic in the subtext, too, a message delivered on a surprising set of wings. Not the most beautiful of birds, but you portray him as majestic. I wonder what adventures he will experience.
Is this for NaNoWriMo or is it a WIP?
Thanks so much for this lovely and soothing bedtime visual (it’s 1:00 a.m.).
Thanks so much! It’s a fantasy novel targeted at ages 10 – 15. Not the dark “Twilight” but hopefully as gripping. I wrote it first as a screenplay as the imagery is really fun and rich. I’m not sure what NaNoWriMo and WIP are. Please tell me.
Have a great one!
Lisa
Maybe ravens will be the new vampires. I think that subject has jumped the shark–television, movies and books are crawling with vampires and I wonder if publishers are even buying those thrillers now, but I guess they’ll be in vogue as long as the youngsters want them.
Have you completed the novel?
NaNoWriMo is an annual online writing challenge in which you write a 50,000+ word novel during the month of November just to prove to yourself that you can. Many of the gals on this site are participating.
NaNoWriMo
WIP = work in progress.
Have fun writing.
I have completed the novel but I haven’t found a publisher yet.
The raven is actually a shaman and wizard to the Crysnix, who are beings, much like modern fairies, who grant wishes to humans from a parallel dimension. The story jumps between the two dimensions and the two worlds of the humans and Crysnix touching on poignant topics such as death, family values, integrity and facing your fears, to name a few.
The story was written to motivate the readers (young adults) to listen to their inner voice and rely on their instincts to be able to live their best lives. The Crysnix granting their wishes are a metaphor for the power of their belief in themselves. Quantum physics have established that thought has weight and true power. I have had fun with the science intermingling with magic to create a truly powerful, inspirational tale.
The genre mixes fantasy with motivation. It is a modern fairy tale that takes the readers into a parallel dimension while allowing them to question how they are living their lives.
The following is from an introduction letter in my treatment package:
“A breathtaking new world—so perfect, so enchanting that we want to believe—unfolds as we witness the journey of new friends, who in turn, lead us toward our own personal triumphs. We span parallel worlds where we learn universal truths and seek the key to unlock the power of the universe. Based on timely theories of empowerment and abundance, and playing with the science of quantum physics, this story rings true. Volare Solus will remain within the hearts and minds of the readers forever. The lines between luck, fate and destiny are forever smudged and will never be the same.
A movement is happening at present that crosses all religions and races. We are redefining our world, our lives and ourselves, finding our strengths and personal triumphs when faced with despair. We are listening to our inner voice and trusting our instincts. Volare Solus is a story about choices and the help we find to make the right ones. In our world fraught with uncertainty people are desperately embracing the need for wholesome fantasy and simple truths.
Volare Solus inspires us to ask, is there a power behind the fulfillment of a wish?”
Thanks for taking the time to read this. If you have any thoughts as to a publisher or agent I could approach, I would really appreciate it.
Lisa
Have you met these fine folks: Absolute Write ? AW is an amazing site offering more useful information than you can imagine; the writers who post on that board are generous and gracious in sharing their advice and experience. Set aside an hour or two to explore the many formums provided there.
You’ve written a solid query letter; you might want to state the book’s title earlier and also identify the genre. Maybe others here can chime in about YA query letters, and you’ll definitely find answers on the Absolute Write board.
I agree with you that self-awareness (figuring out who they are and where they fit in) is one of the young adult audience’s chief concerns. My novel’s protagonist is a 12-14 year old girl, and I really painted myself into a corner in choosing that age range on which to write (having no exposure to today’s pubescent/adolescent), but I’m learning. I wish I could write fantasy–it must be so much fun to create your own universe. I’m looking forward to reading your book.
Happy writing.
I just checked out AW. Thanks.
Writing for young teens is VERY difficult. There is a huge range of maturity there. My story deals with issues ranging from anger and unforgiveness to doing meth and cutting to find escape from the pain of losing a father. There is so much crap facing kids today. I’m glad my kids are grown.
My parallel universe is very cool and I did have a lot of fun creating it. It’s the perfect society where everyone lives in harmony with eachother and the planet. The premise is that the Crysnix are facilitating the humans to evolve toward their higher state ie living green, living in peace and celebrating our talents and differences.
Just my $.02 on agents and publishers.
There are those on VN who self-publish, go to vanity presses, use POD (print on demand) services, and the like. I took the traditional route: querying agents; securing a great agent; and leaving all the business of publishing to her. My job is to write–her job is to sell my work.
There are a lot of scams out there, please beware of those “agents” and “publishers” who prey upon the new (or not so new) writer anxious to see her work in print. An author should never pay any money out of pocket. Never. For no thing. I have heard stories of so called “publishers” gaining exclusivity to a book and then taking their time getting that book in print–as long as two years.
If you admire an author’s work, look to see who the publisher is and do your homework to determine that publisher’s legitimacy. AW has a forum devoted to just that. Research and contact those agents and commercial publishers who represent your genre. Sure you’ll get rejections, we all do, but rather that than a service that publishes any and all things just for a quick buck, leaving the author with a poorly edited end product that she’s ashamed to market.
Happy writing (and getting published)
Thanks Yakkity1. I have to get back into the saddle and send out more querey letters. I spent a year re-writing the novel and screenplay and sent a “package” to 80 agents and producers. I had a cover letter from a local entertainment lawyer, thinking it would suffice in lieu of an industry agent’s cover letter. No go, I’m afraid. I recieved lovely rejection letters from everyone from George Lucas to Jerry Bruckheimer, without them even taking a peek, because it hadn’t gone through the proper channels. I had hoped to bypass the agent but if you think it’s the best way to go, I’ll start looking again.
Cheers.
What’s your book’s title? When did it come or will it come out and by which pub?
The title is Volare Solus – To Fly Alone. I haven’t had it published yet. Still looking for an agent!
How is your writing going?
I have to agree that lisa’s “writing is so lyrically descriptive, and it captured and held my attention throughout.” The first paragraph by itself would not make me buy the book, but it is short and propells one on to the following paragraphs. These three praragraphs seem to be steppng stones for humans who do not fly above the forest but must be drawn into it nevertheless. Good start that sets up high expectations for the rest of the book.
~~Nancy
Thanks Nancy. These paragraphs actually come from the introduction to the story. I had to set up the complexities of two dimensions and explain who the Crysnix are, what their powers are and how they fit into the story. I made it sound “airy fairy” and a bit Celtic in spots to create the mood as it was from the perspective of the wizard, or shaman. The story unfolds in normal prose style.
I am glad that it sets up high expectations. We all want to be swept along and entertained while reading!
Excellent. I love fantasy. As an introduction to place and a character, this works well. The description of the shaman is especially good, and so true to those in our Amazon jungles. They actually visit our world at the cellular level. I just finished Jeremy Narby’s The Cosmic Serpent where he describes just such mind travels of the native shamans there.
I have had a lot of fun incorporating many cultural beliefs and spirituality as well as molecular science into the story. I researched quantum physics to find if wishing actually has power – and it does! Just look at the number of self-help books out there (by Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, Martha Beck etc. etc. ) that say the same thing.
The shaman is a shape shifter and turns from a raven into a wizard. He is actually from a third dimension, as is another character in the story, Chloe, the Giftmaker. I introduce her in the next paragraphs:
Castle Forest, lush and mysterious, where in its core stands the magnificent Crystal Kingdom. Hidden from Humankind, lay the secrets of its salvation. In a parallel world of perfection, live advanced beings who have unlocked the truths of the universe and live in harmony. Castle Forest. This is where the Crystal Faeries or as they refer to themselves, the Crysnix, live.
A reassuring presence swept over him as he noticed Chloe, the Giftmaker flying away from the center of the forest. Up, upwards until she vanished into the wisp of blue, soaking into the western horizon.
“She has delivered the gift for the ceremony tonight,” whispered Marsuveus to himself with a smile.
Chloe, the Giftmaker was of his realm. Humans called them wizards, shamans and shape-shifters. They were all and the same. She was ageless and presented herself to be most pleasant to the eye with silky, silver hair that flowed to her waist and crystal blue eyes. She held the pure universal power in her tiny, delicate hands and took it upon herself to create the gifts for the Crysnix to mark their entry into adulthood. The gifts were in the form of a belt buckle or medallion, a sword or a ring, and held the power of the universe. When the owner of the gift felt in peril and had to tap into hidden reserves of strength or will, the gift would aid in channeling the power from within.
Chloe had interned with the ancients and had learned to forge the noble metals with hidden powers, as did her mentors who made the swords, chalices and rings of other magical folklore. She knew, as did Marsuveus, that magic was only a small part of the power. It was only the spark to ignite the will to believe.
….and so, a gratuitous peek at more of my work…
Thanks for reading.
The first thing that stands out in this piece, of course, is the prose. Lyrical and fluid it is as beautiful as the flight of the raven and its cadence matches that sense of lightness and airiness.
As I do not read fantasy fiction I am not sure how this section conforms to the standards of that genre, but I can say that the mystery of the raven that is actually a Shaman promises a good story to come.
My only minor comment is that the word “juices” stopped me. I’d like to see something more mystical in line with the feel of the piece. Perhaps “potions?”
A great start. Keep it up.
Talia Carner
Thanks Talia. It feels good to let people read my work and get constructive critiques. It’s funny, but I don’t read fantasy fiction either. I created this as a children’s bedtime story, expanded it into TV series and then re-wrote it as a movie and then a novel. Whew! After all that time and loving effort, I just want to get it out there!
This is beautifully written; it drew me in and made me want to continue reading. Please keep us up to date on the progress of this book!
With laser-scalpel in hand, he exposed the still beating heart of the sleeping form before him, injected his nanites and watched the steady uninterrupted rhythmic pulsing. He reached out and stroked the glistening heart gently, then closed the flesh around it and she lived. He was God! This was a new life-form. It was his now – his. He watched the steady breathing of this first validation of his work. He would build a perfect race, perfect men and more importantly, perfect women. One by one, he would add them to his cadre and they would march to the step he intoned, and the girl on the table woke, stared wide-eyed, sat bolt upright, opened her mouth in a silent scream and died.
He stared at the still form. He was a student again, and he needed answers. It would be a long red night in the pristine clean white room.
Your tight writing is a skill I wish I possessed. You can economize on your words, but still get the story told. Good stuff. Your paragraph tells a mini-story in its entirety, and I wonder if you’re giving away too much up front. Is this creature his firstborn? I’m surprised at his calm reaction to its death.
Could it be that this is a prologue to your first chapter? I do like the story; the desire to create life is a universal theme which people enjoy reading and/or viewing. I am so curious to learn what comes next.
Are you in NaNoWriMo?
Thanks for your critique and compliment. I don’t think I’ve given too much away – this introduces my ‘villain’ around AD 2020 and at this point we do not know his name. Similar to program Criminal Minds, where you see a crime and the one commiting it, but don’t really know the why of it or whether he will be stopped. Further on I introduce James (Law Enforcement Officer) and Jade (a writer, witch) whose psi help James often calls on to help him solve crimes. I’m toying with a few comic relief characters, but they may not fit here and end up in a ‘cozy’ later on – I like them too much to not use them somewhere.
I am doing Nano, Are you?
You have a knack for creating suspense. I felt I was on the edge of my seat but I agree with Yakkity1 that he should have felt more anguish when she died. The genre of futuristic “Criminal Minds”/”Medium” is daunting. Good luck and have fun with it.
Thanks Lisa: He’s pretty much a sociopath – they have no remorse. They want what they want it however perverse. His only regret is that his ‘experiment’ failed. Later I do give him some feelings but only for a long-ago childhood friend, someone he knew before twisted by his odd upbringing.
This seems to be a futuristic mad scientist/Frankenstein story. I’m not a big fan of mad scientist/Frankenstein stories. So as it stands, I’d put this book back on the shelf and look for something else to buy.
However, if the first paragraph told me what is different, why this is not just another mad scientist/Frankenstein story, I would keep reading. If the differences were interesting enough, I’d buy the book. But that first paragraph better give me the differences fast, or I won’t read further.
That’s just me and my reading preferences. In the broad scheme of things, my lone opinion may not matter enough for you to change anything. Write for you, what you love. Others will love it too. O
kay, maybe it’s not for me, but millions of others love mad scientist/Frankenstein stories. Still, if you do have a new twist on the classic, tell us early. You’ll add readers like me to your book buyers.
~~Nancy
I hope I’m not going to be the only one opining on the paragraphs. I thought we’d critique each others’ works as well as submit our own for review.
hint. hint.
The Wall Street Journal rounded up a pack of best-selling authors for suggestions on how to write a great novel. This is how the big dawgs (bitches?) roll.
Edited to add: Please disregard this post. Read the attached article but do not comment on it here (let’s keep this thread focused on our first paragraphs). Instead, I have also posted it on the experienced writers advice to NaNoWriMo participants thread.
Here is the link to the above thread– experienced authors’s tips
First sentence–and first paragraph–are indeed important and should draw the reader. However, those wsriters here who are searching for that great opening, take heart: often, when a novel is finished (or just far enough along), that opening presents itself because the story has become more cohesive. You can always go back and fix it….
So don’t let this hold you back. Keep typing away, and enjoy the journey.
Why not stay awhile, Talia, and review a paragraph or three? So far, everyone posting has agreed to being critiqued.
Happy writing.
I will be happy to review a couple of openings, but I believe that the first week is much too early for many writers to be critiqued at this stage. Although I believe in having work reviewed, I know from my own experience that too early reviews can stifle creativity (and I am thick-skinned!) I have started writing a new novel (my 5th) and am not even discussing it with my writing group, who’ve been with me for years….
So, I will peek back here once in a while, but will wait until the end of NaNo to make my first comments on the writing.
We are not limited to NaNoWriMo participants; everyone is welcome. Some of us are posting opening paragraphs of works in progress or of completed novels/short stories as noted at the top of this thread.
Thanks for stopping by and sharing your thoughts; every writer has her own way of reaching that final draft ending in the words “the end.” You have your way of working which, by evidence of your five novels, is effective for you, and I have mine. I don’t share your opinion that it is too early for critique, nor would I ever discourage nascent writers from finding their own way.
There are those who are anxious to share their work, and even if they are part of NaNoWriMo, it’s nice to come up for air and get some feedback. Those who wish to post here are welcome to, and I encourage them to do so–or else I wouldn’t have created this thread.
OK, you’ve convinced me. Please see some of my reviews above.
Best,
Talia Carner
It’s nice to have you back, AuthorTalia.
I have never written anything other than academic papers and I haven’t found the opening post that explains this project yet, but I want to play too. Here you go…..just some stream of conscience writing here..
~~~~~~~~
Sara Jean Hutchison was born on a Ferris wheel on May 31, 1959, and she felt her life had been going around in circles ever since. Okay, not technically born on a Ferris wheel but close enough to tell the story that way to new friends and acquaintances. Sarah Jean was born in the Portland area neighborhood of Louisville, Kentucky. Then, Portland was a typical, low to middle class neighborhood similar to many in the industrialized areas of the south. This particular neighborhood was made of Americans with mostly Irish and German heritages. To Sarah Jean’s limited view, the neighborhood seemed to be equally divided between Baptists and Catholics. And also to her limited view, the differences between Baptists and Catholics were simple: one group held bingo and fish fries and had holy days, while the other group held rummage sales, bake sales, and revivals. The leaders of one group were called Father while the leaders of the other group were called Brother. Sarah Jean wondered if the priests being called Father gave the Catholics and edge over the Baptists. But then she figured that the Baptists got to talk directly to Jesus Christ, the Son of God, while the Catholics had to talk to Him through his mother, so that should count for something. Perhaps that equaled out the Father/Brother thing.
Religion played a large part of Sara Jean’s life. Her mother was the church treasurer and a founding member ensuring that Sara Jean’s weekends and Wednesdays were devoted to God, or at least to church. When Sara Jean started J. B. Atkinson elementary school, she made friends outside of her religious circle. Sara Jean befriended a Catholic girl who lived on her street named Sheila Jones. Since Sara Jean attended a hell-fire and brimstone southern Baptist church, she was taught that all those who were not like her would burn in eternal hell. Sara Jean didn’t want her new friend to go to hell so after service one Sunday, she tried to talk to her pastor about it.
Brother Gee was an older man and friend of the family. In fact, Brother Gee’s son had dated Sara Jean’s older sister, Michelle. As he was walking to the church door to shake hands with all the people who attended service that day, Sara Jean stopped him in his tracks by asking this simple question, “Brother Gee, do Catholics go to heaven?”
Ever the diplomat, Brother Gee responded, “Well Sara Jean, there are good Catholics and bad Catholics just like there are good Baptists and bad Baptists, so the good Catholics will go to heaven.”
Sara Jean thought about this for a moment, and Brother Gee headed back toward the door of the church once again. However, Sara Jean had another question. She asked, “When we get to heaven will there be Catholic clouds and Baptist clouds?”
Brother Gee again stopped and turned to the precocious 6 year old and responded, “No Sara Jean, in heaven we will all be together.”
Again Brother Gee started toward the door, and again Sara Jean stopped him with another question, “So if we will be all together in heaven, why can’t we all be together here?”
At this point Brother Gee’s diplomacy had worn out and he turned around looking over the congregation and asked, “Where’s your mother!”
I liked Sara right from the start; you’ve created a very clever child in spite of her limited view of her world (or is it the limited view provided by Portland?). She reminds me of Tom Sawyer, and I want to learn more about her because I get the feeling that she’s nothing like the rest of her neighbors.
I like the last two sentences of your first paragraph describing how Sara Jean interpreted the relationships among the Deities and humans. I didn’t read past the first paragraph, but I enjoyed what I found there. Nice flow to it, too. I think you’ve aced that transition from academia to fiction.
I’m not sure about the ferris wheel metaphor and was expecting a physical proximity to a carnival. Are you saying that her thoughts and life come full circle in the course of the story?
I’m sorry I didn’t read beyond the opening paragraph, though I’m tempted to, but each author is to post her first paragraph only.
Happy writing.
First thank you. I never thought of Sara as Tom Sawyer but now that you’ve said it out loud, that makes great sense!
Second, sorry about the multiple paragraph thing. I’m a new member here and at NaNoWriMo and still learning.
Finally, the Ferris wheel will show up more as the story unfolds….
Thanks again for your support!
No harm done, drshe and, again, thank you for sharing your work with us. I am really impressed by the paragraphs that are being posted here.
I loved it – right from the first sentence! Although you touch on serious questions, there is such humor. I like the pace and the writing is real, not flowery. A descritption of Sara Jean would help the reader “get into” her more, as you are writing in the first person. Just a suggestion…
Thank you so much! I appreciate the kind words and the suggestion. A description of Sara Jean makes sense…just as soon I figure it out!
Kinda difficult to describe yourself in first person, no? Try to find another means other than the old mirror ploy. Aside from age and any extraordinary attiibuts (being disabled, etc.), I like to leave the MC’s appearance to the reader.
Dear d,
Since this is a “first paragrpah” section, I will refer only to the first paragraph:
You’ve caught my attention in the first sentence with the Ferris wheel (although it’s unclear where exactly near it the big event happened.)
Immediately you get into Sara Jean’s head and her perceptions of the neighborhood, which are fresh and stratling and interesting. Wonderfully done.
You’ve chosen an ominicient point-of-view telling that tends to be the most remote of all POV choices, yet you do a good job of sliding smoothly into the 3rd person when you take the reader into the protagonist’s head.
The prose, too, is good and its tone befitting the story. My suggestion in revising the paragraph is only some tightening. I am copying the paragraph and marking in [ ] what can be deleted or changed and explain why in { }.
“Okay, not technically born on a Ferris wheel but close enough to tell the story that way to new [friends and] acquaintances. Sarah Jean was born in the Portland area neighborhood of Louisville, Kentucky. Then, Portland was a typical, low to middle class neighborhood similar to many in the industrialized areas of the south. This particular neighborhood was made of Americans with mostly Irish and German heritages. To Sarah Jean[’s limited view,] the neighborhood seemed to be equally divided between Baptists and Catholics [. And also to her limited view,] {we see her view and how it’s limited, and taht is the charm. No need to tell that to the reader as you do a good job showing} the differences between [ Baptists and Catholics] {them} were simple: one group held bingo and fish fries and had holy days, while the other group held rummage sales, bake sales, and revivals. The leaders of one group were called Father while the leaders of the other group were called Brother. …”
Good luck, and keep up the great work,
Talia Carner
Thank you so much! I appreciate your time and your comments. This is great!
This is the first paragraph of the story relating my feelings about my mother’s death at age 52. Comments please.
Like yesterday and the day before, this morning I woke up tired and listless. I wrestle in my sleep each night because of the familiar dream about the water and the fire and the skyscraper and the black birds. When the dream leaves my memory, as dreams often do, all I have left is fatigue. Quietly, so not to waken the children, I get my robe and go to look out through the kitchen window. The early morning air feels cool on my face so I will stand here for a few minutes with my eyes closed and wait for something to happen. .
This is the day my mom died many years ago. I still remember the listless, vacuous feeling of having to force myself to get up every day and carry on in the land of the living. I hope your story is one of hope and a recipe for the strength to get past the pain.
Thank you for your response. I realize that the first paragraph is quiet dark – but I limited myself to sharing just that first paragraph. The story continues, in a much lighter tone, to decribe that during the course of this day (her last day) my mother’s life experiences were panamount in my mind. I was very troubled and riddled with all types of guilt because I was so angry and selfishly afraid of what was in store. However, though not many words were shared, there was a reconciliation of sorts. She reached for my hand and smiled at me. “Don’t be afraid”, she said. I felt empowered and renewed. I am grateful that the day ended peacfully – for both of us.
Good job. Your first paragraph reminds me of the song “Shannon,” not a bad comparison because it, too, tells of a profound feeling of loss. At first I thought you were relating the aftermath of a divorce, but then realized that the subject at hand is a death.
In addition to serving as the reader’s first introduction to your story, the first paragraph also sets its tone. Your paragraph doesn’t strike me as being “quite dark.” On second read, although I sense the MC has given up and is no more than a passive player in her own life, she is conscious of the well-being of her children, so all is not lost. The elements of the dreams portend death–black birds are messengers of death, water kills fire, and skyscrapers thrust skyward into the heavens (okay, I had to stretch with that last one). Bird also can be suggestive of the phoenix and its perpetual rising from the ashes (fire)–the “silver lining” of your mother’s final words–so one suggestion for “lightening” the tone of your first paragraph to match that of the rest of the memoir (lighter, as you stated in your post to lisa shore) is to delete the word “black.”
I like this paragraph, but I am sorry for the circumstances that led you to write. Your mother died much too soon.
Memoirs are difficult, but they’ve topped the bestseller lists over the past couple of years. You’re off to a good start.
She was the eldest of six children with her mother, but the second born with a polygamous father, who ended up with twelve surviving children from his two wives. Her name was A, she was a very beautiful young girl who got bethrothed to a her father’s friend when she turned 14. The setup in those days in the the village was to express friendships by giving off one’s daughter to one’s friend, without previous consultation with the child nor her mother. God help her mother if she dared to try to opine on the issue. She was oftentimes sent back to her parents for daring to Talk when her husband decided on their daughter’s future.
WOULD LOVE COMMENTS COS I HAVE NOT HAD IT THIS GOOD, TO HAVE A VOLUNTEERED AUDIENCE. CALL ME A COMPLETE NOVICE WRITER COS THIS IS MY FIRST.
Hi Alaseyori.
Welcome to the wild world of writing.
Your subject matter–polygamy and forced marriage–reminded me of the polygamous sects here in the U.S. and how we oftentimes forget that it’s a universal problem affecting women and girls (and their sons and brothers) all over the world.
Your first sentence has me baffled, and I spent too much time trying to figure out A’s place in the family. Can you simplify the ranking of the wives and children? Expand a little on “very beautiful.” Show, don’t tell. Take your time in telling your story, because it is a good one, and your paragraph seems a bit rushed. Again, there is confusion in the last sentence and I’m not sure whether you’re referring to A or to her mother. Or maybe I’m just dense this evening.
You’ve created a fascinating reality-based story, and I’m really looking forward to reading more about A.
Have you read Fr. Uwem Akpan’s book of short stories “Say You’re One of Them?” I’m finding his writing to be flawless…what a talent! I’ve read only the first story, having to take it in small doses because of his gut-wrenching depiction of the lives of children. I know that your A is going to be as memorable a character as any of Fr. Akpan’s.
Happy writing. Oh, and remember to critique the other posted paragraphs.
Thanks for a very candid critique, i do have a stepping stone into my life-long ambition to write. I cant wait for next Nov. for another writing exercise. I plan to finish my book before then though.
“Eileen Carter awoke, as she often did, with a sense of despair that fluttered in her stomach like a moth caught between the window glass. She quickly forced herself to grasp instead a sense of hope and forced herself out of bed.
The morning air smelled fresh, of damp earth and sun warmth on the old wooden boards of the house. She noticed that fewer birds sang now in these late summer mornings; already the season was turning toward autumn although September had just begun. The cats clamored for her attention as she made her way down the hallway to the bath. Each in turn demanded petting, and having gotten it, headed down to the kitchen to check out the dogs’ dishes. Eileen bathed and made ready to go to work, wishing she could instead spend the day in the woods, camera in hand, or in front of her computer, writing. But there were bills to be paid and people who depended on her…”
I use Ubuntu OS and apparently when I copy/paste from Open Office to VN there is some discrepancy.. otherwise I have no idea where the <!– stuff is coming from! Sorry…
I realize that this is actually 2 paragraphs, but as the first paragraph was so short I felt it would give you a better feel for the style if I added the second…
I am so sorry for my delay in posting here. I have been experiencing technical difficulties accessing this site and I was unable to log in to VN using my then browser.
shewhowouldprevail, is it vital to the story that you begin with Eileen Carter’s awakening? It’s a natural time scheme and many writers do so, but it would be far more interesting if you were to begin at a different point in your story. Capturing Eileen’s feelings when she is isolated in the woods with just her camera would present the reader with another ‘view’ of her life there and elsewhere. But I shouldn’t write that as it’s in violation of the one paragraph rule.
I just finished reading Stephen King’s short story entitled “Premium Harmony” in the November 2 The New Yorker, and wish I had his flair for openings.
“They’ve been married for ten years and for a long time everything was O.K.–swell–but now they argue. Now they argue quite a bit. It’s really all the same argument. It has circularity. It is, Ray thinks, like a dog track. When they aregue, they’re like greyhounds chasing the mechanical rabbit. You go past the same scenery time after time, but you don’t see it. You see the rabbit.”
Be careful of redundancy–the word “sense” is used in two connecting sentences.
You’re doing NaNoWriMo aren’t you? How does it feel to be at day 23? You women are all winners.
Happy writing.
Thank you for your input… I’d completely missed the redundant word “sense”, for example. I started the story upon awakening for a particular reason, but I see your point and may make some changes there. Thanks again!
Just remember that “nobody knows anything,” and that’s from the great screenwriter William Goldman. If the morning scene supports your novel, leave it in and take some risks with that opening; the object is to capture the reader and keep her reading.
But you know that.
Happy writing.
Opening scene to:
HUGO’S CONSPIERCY
“Oh, come on Sam this is me, your oldest, dearest friend and house-mate. How can you do this to me! One month in this hell hole of a hot city and you’re running my legs off. Couldn’t we just put off jogging until winter? You’re in great shape already.” The running companions had run the last three miles side by side, from Sam Weston’s home, through the middle of Vermillion Mesa Arizona. Their goal today was the park near Sam’s mothers’ home.
“You’re running to fast, and you keep forgetting that my legs are shorter than yours………. Come on, all right, and already. Three miles is far enough for a start. You do know we have to go the same distance back don’t you!…………….”
They rounded a corner and crossed the neighborhood street into the park. “ Nice Park, Great trees, Wonderful place to take a good long rest. Follow me, Sam; I know a cool shady spot when I see one.
Sam ran past the shaded spot in the grass under a large tree. “ Hey! Where ya going! That’s the wrong way. The shade is over here! Saaaaam. Oh, darn my legs can’t hold out much longer. Who ever invented jogging was a masochist. The shade is the other way! …………..”.
Sam’s running companion came to a stop and stood his ground under the tree, watching Sam run farther into the park. Sam stopped, checked his pulse with his wrist monitor, turned and called to his trusted friend, and then bent for a long drink of cooling water from the fountain he had come in search of. “Great… At last you remembered we need water. Sam’s running companion came and took his drink, they resumed running to the far side of the park.
“Samuel Weston, you turn around this very instant so we can go home or I’ll disown you as a friend right here and now!”
Still jogging Sam turned about face and started to run in the direction they had come.
“WOW! That’s never worked before. Good boy, Sam. We’re headed home. Home where breakfast is waiting. Home where my bed is waiting for these tired worn out legs to rest.
They ran back past Sam’s mom’s house. Her car was gone from the driveway so they didn’t bother stopping. They ran down Main Street and past the pastry shop in the business district. Sam’s companion slowed to smell the aroma of that morning’s freshly baked goods. “ You’re running to fast, Sam. I want to have legs left on my body by the time we get home. At this rate I’ll never be able to run again…”
Sam ran on. Nothing seamed to slow him, but that was okay. They were almost home. Just two more turns and they would be in the coolness of the house eating breakfast.
As they came to the last turn a streak of yellow fur suddenly ran between Sam Weston’s muscled legs, followed closely by the black and brown mottled body of his dog. Sam was almost knocked on his backside. “Hugo, get back here! You good for nothing, mangy… I can’t waist time chasing you down today. Hugo! STOP.” Sam’s words never reached the Boxers ears. The two animals scaled a neatly trimmed hedge and disappeared around the corner of the house on the corner, just three houses down from Sam’s.
YES I WOULD LIKE COMMENTS
A nice opening. I wonder if the dialogue is being spoken aloud or if it is the speaker’s thoughts. You give us a lot of information in few words. My only suggestion is that you insert a paragraph break at the end of the third sentence to separate the dialogue from the narrative.
Happy writing.
For some reason the dialog didn’t come through as italicized as it should have. If it had of you might have realized that it is in fact not said out loud in human voice. In fact this is Sam’s running partner, his dog saying the dialog. I know it is different but not long after this scene it comes clear how this story is being told.
Sam’s running partner is a dog? I love it! (I didn’t read beyond the first paragraph.) What a deliciously refreshing premise! I would love to read the entire novel someday. Soon.
Happy writing.
For some reason the dialog didn’t come through as italicized as it should have. If it had of you might have realized that it is in fact not said out loud in human voice. In fact this is Sam’s running partner, his dog saying the dialog. I know it is different but not long after this scene it comes clear how this story is being told.
I’ve just completed my first lousy first draft of my first novel. So I can claim no authoritative expertise in evaluating your opening scene. As a reader, however, I can tell you I love this action and imagery. Had I taken this book from the bookseller’s shelf and read only this much of it, I’d buy it–eager to learn more about Hugo. He reminds me so much of our beloved Great Dane who “aged out” a few years ago.
~~Nancy
Just finished my first NaNoWriMo. What a rush! Here’s my first paragraph and enough more to give it some sense. Comments are most welcome.
She was just standing up from removing hamburger, eggs, onions, and ketchup from the refrigerator when the humming began. But she didn’t hear it. She had her headphones on and the twentieth century Classic Rock and Roll cranked up as loud as she could stand it. Before she could get from the refrigerator to the counter, everything leapt from her arms and splattered on the floor. She pulled the headphones from her head and heard the humming just in time to throw herself against the counter before she fell into the floor on top of the food.
“Phi-i-il!” She said, with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The grav lock was broken despite his promises to fix it. She should have had maintenance do it, but Phil liked to tinker. She was annoyed that he hadn’t fixed it yet. Still, it was like him to be preoccupied and act out of habit. She had gotten used to him resetting the gravity without warning. It had almost become a game to see if she could get through the day without landing in the floor.
“Oops. Sorry.” Phil called out. “She used three distinct syllables,” he thought. “I’d better make it up to her fast.”
She pushed the third button on her left cuff. The hover chair powered on, rose three inches above the floor, scanned to room to locate its position, then homed in on the cuff signal. Phil and the chair arrived in the kitchen at the same time. He helped Joan into the chair. She couldn’t walk when the blue light was on. Her leg muscles weren’t strong enough to resist that much gravity. Even with the green light she had difficulty—a slight limp and halting gait that had passed down for many generations. She could walk around the apartment and other small areas, but needed the hover chair for going any distance. The green light allowed her some exercise to prevent total muscular atrophy.
Well, the event is over. I had more fun than I imagined sitting at my computer and writing the stories of my childhood. This was my first time writing anything like this and I enjoyed it immensely. I shared the chapters with my sister as they developed and she became my biggest fan and cheerleader….as always. I’ve already determined to ensure that my 2010 calendar has November blocked off from other events so that I may enjoy this again. I only hope between now and then, I think of another story to tell.
Thanks so much for sharing this event on your blog. I would not have known about it otherwise. VN rocks!!!! Oh and btw….total word count 52,356.
Now it is off to Hawaii with said sister. We have much to celebrate this year. I finally finished that pesky Doctor of Management program, turned 50, wrote a rough draft of a novel. She turned 65 and created the artwork and provided grammatical editing for the novel. Look out….the Sisters are at it again and headed for Maui.
Hugs and happy holidays to everyone!